The Past is such a curious Creature
To look her in the Face
A Transport may receipt us
Or a Disgrace —
Unarmed if any meet her
I charge him fly
Her faded Ammunition
Might yet reply.
-
-
The pattern of the sun
Can fit but him alone
For sheen must have a Disk
To be a sun — -
The pedigree of honey
Does not concern the bee ;
A clover, any time, to him
Is aristocracy. -
The Pile of Years is not so high
As when you came before
But it is rising every Day
From recollection's Floor
And while by standing on my Heart
I still can reach the top
Efface the mountain with your face
And catch me ere I drop -
The Popular Heart is a Cannon first —
Subsequent a Drum —
Bells for an Auxiliary
And an Afterward of Rum —
Not a Tomorrow to know its name
Nor a Past to stare —
Ditches for Realms and a Trip to Jail
For a Souvenir — -
CAN there on earth, my Celia, be
A price I would not pay for thee?
Yes, one dear precious tear of thine
Should not be shed to make thee mine. -
The Province of the Saved
Should be the Art — To save —
Through Skill obtained in Themselves —
The Science of the Grave
No Man can understand
But He that hath endured
The Dissolution — in Himself —
That Man — be qualified
To qualify Despair
To Those who...The pungent atom in the Air
Admits of no debate —
All that is named of Summer Days
Relinquished our Estate —
For what Department of Delight
As positive are we
As Limit of Dominion
Or Dams — of Ecstasy —The rainbow never tells me
That gust and storm are by,
Yet is she more convincing
Than Philosophy.
My flowers turn from Forums —
Yet eloquent declare
What Cato couldn't prove me
Except the birds were here!The Red — Blaze — is the Morning —
The Violet — is Noon —
The Yellow — Day — is falling —
And after that — is none —
But Miles of Sparks — at Evening —
Reveal the Width that burned —
The Territory Argent — that
Never yet — consumed —